


unexpected presents are best unwrapped.

by indiavolowetrust



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Mildly Dubious Consent, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, as well as possible hints towards yandere, please refrain from reading this work if you find either upsetting, this includes elements of noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiavolowetrust/pseuds/indiavolowetrust
Summary: Levi is given a present for a surprise birthday party. Things do not go as planned.
Relationships: Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of MC having a backstory, MC is Maria Cruz, a Catholic-raised girl raised in rural Spain. Based on various female saints. I just thought it was fitting and served its purpose for the plot well.

I pull my blazer closer to my skin, doing my best to fight off a shiver. Despite the completely stagnant state of the Devildom’s weather -- the air is always on the cusp of an unpleasant, biting frigidity -- I have forgotten, again, to dress appropriately for the lack of warmth. It is at times like this that I long for the mild spring seasons of Spain again. While the Devildom holds its own in its spiraling, indulgent architecture, dark skies, and extravagant views of the city, it is difficult to ward off the yearning when I am reminded of my homeland. I pine for the sight of sunlight, Spanish cathedrals, intricately carved reliefs and paintings -- even the annoying but familiar sight of our neighbor’s farm dogs, forever yapping up a storm at our gates. And the ocean. God, I miss the ocean. As overbearing as my Catholic family is, we would never pass up an opportunity to stuff ourselves into the automobile and journey to the seashore.

It is April, after all. Springtime. If I were in the human world right now, my school adjourned for our seasonal break, I imagine that Mama would have long corralled us into the car to take us to the ocean. The fresh, salty sea breeze would visage, embracing my body with its pleasant aura, and then we would say our evening prayers, no matter the distance that exists between us and a physical church. 

_ We should thank Him for such blessings, _ she would say, holding her rosary to her breast,  _ for He loves each of his children equally and unconditionally. We must rise above the temptations of demons and devils, for it is our duty to uphold our position as the children of God. It is His will. _

What a horrible, fantastic lie that was.

Another wind passes through the streets of the Devildom again, forcing me to withdraw even further into the confines of my RAD uniform. I silently thank Lord Diavolo everyday for thinking to provide me with one upon first arrival. Without the inadvertent disguise that the school uniform provides me, I imagine that one of the lesser demons walking the streets would have long devoured my body and soul. Especially seeing that I possess no physical traits that could make me even pass for a demon. Better yet, the uniform is similar to that of my Catholic school uniform: a dark, knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, and a blazer decorated with golden buttons. And black stockings, for the purposes of both modesty and warmth. It is a near identical version to the one that the Avatar of Greed would be wearing, save for his personal, frivolous touches, and one that I would be able to spot easily in the crowd before me if he were to appear.

That is, if Mammon is still here. For all I know, the loudmouth has already wandered somewhere else in his endless pursuit of money.

A lesser demon gives me an odd look as he passes by, recognizing me as an unsupervised human, and I do my best to look as nonchalant and unbothered as possible. It is expected to be in the vicinity of so many demons, of course, seeing how I am standing in the middle of a shopping district -- but it is not expected to be so unprotected.

_ Damn it, Mammon, where are you? _ I think, instinctively scanning the crowd for his tell-tale fair hair and dark skin. My search yields little success.  _ It’s already -- _

“I told ya that I found it!” erupts a voice behind me, a tone of arrogance apparent in the strange language of the demons. I nearly jump out of my skin. “What’d I tell you about listenin’ to the Great Mammon?”

I whirl around to face the grinning demon. “You -- you could have done that without scaring me,” I protest indignantly, much to his humor. “Just because your brothers do that all the time doesn’t mean you have to do it to me!”

Mammon’s grin only widens, satisfaction evident on his features. “Why not? It’s more fun this way. Just because your human senses are at the bottom of the barrel doesn’t mean that we can’t mess with ya.”

“Well --”

“Come on, let’s go!” Mammon begins to stride in the opposite direction, completely ignoring my words. “I promised Lucifer that I’d have you back before dinner. It’s not that far from here, anyway.”

I sigh, seeing how little of a choice that I have in the matter.

As it turns out, it is very, very far. Or at least that’s how my body feels about the journey. Despite having worked on my family’s farm all my life, it is difficult to keep up with Mammon’s considerably longer strides, and I find my lungs protest at the exertion. A side-effect of living a more idle life in the Devildom, I would expect. Mammon browses the figurines and objects through the window of the hobby shop, his eyes bouncing from item to item.

“I thought you said it wasn’t far,” I say, catching my breath.

“Not for a demon,” he responds nonchalantly. His eyes catch on something on display. “Think he’d like something like that?”

I follow his gaze. His eyes are locked on what appears to be a more plain but stylish-looking wallet, missing the typical brand of the  _ TSL _ series. Dark and well-made and not at all to Levi’s tastes or use, as it would appear. I frown at the greedy spark in Mammon’s eyes.

“You’re not tricking me into buying a new home for Goldie,” I remark, crossing my arms. “And I’m pretty sure Levi wouldn’t want a brand new wallet for his birthday. Doesn’t he only buy things online?”

“Ya never know,” says Mammon. “If we demons want something, we want something. No ifs, ands, or buts. He could decide to start using a credit card tomorrow, if he wanted to.”

“And he won’t.”

Mammon pouts. “I am his older brother, you know.”

“So his older brother would know to get him something a little better than that,” I say, searching the window of the shop myself for a more suitable present. My heart still hammers in my chest, but I’ve gotten it closer to a more manageable pace. Something catches my eye, and I point at it before I can fully inspect it. “What about that?”

Mammon’s eyes follow my finger. “That?”

It is a perfect replica of the Lord of Shadow. Mint condition, featuring his signature outfit from the very first season of the series, and, most importantly, a special limited edition of the product. A hefty price tag of nine thousand Grimm is attached to the bottom of its display case. Mammon scrunches his face in disapproval as he notices the price tag, wincing at the unexpectedly high price, but I know better than to relent.

“Are you sure he would want that?” he asks, his attention floating back to the more desirable wallet. “I mean, how do you know that he already doesn’t have that?”

“It’s a limited edition,” I point out. “It looks like it just came out.”

“He’s probably collected about a hundred of those things already. If you get the wallet, then --”

“I’m not getting the wallet just so he can give it to you when he doesn’t want it.” I begin to fish in my pocket for my own wallet, my fingers searching for the Grimm hidden within. They close over the foreign currency after a few moments. “And it’s for his birthday, not yours. I’ll get you anything you want when the time comes.”

Mammon brightens at that. A little too much. “Really? Anything?”

I sigh. “Well, not anything, but --”

The sound of the door to the shop opening interrupts me, the bells ringing out from inside of the store. Mammon’s incoming protests immediately die in his throat, surprise written on his features as he suddenly goes quiet. It takes me a moment to glance over in the direction Mammon faces, still preoccupied with the thought of his gift, but Mammon quickly nudges me in the side to grab my attention. I turn.

Levi looks awkwardly at the both of us, a paper bag in his hands. His golden eyes flicker back and forth between Mammon and I. I do my best to guard my intentions.

“What are you two doing here?” Levi asks.

I try to think up a lie on the fly. “I -- well, we--”

Mammon quickly hooks his arm around my shoulder, his body draping over my much smaller form. I startle, but his firm grip on my shoulder prevents me from jumping away. He grins. “This little human and I were just on a date!” he exclaims, nuzzling his face closer to mine. I resist the urge to shove the loudmouth away. “Beel told me about this ice cream place down the street, and I decided to take little St. Maria here out for the afternoon. What are you doing here?”

Levi takes a moment to glance past us, gaze landing on the bookstore next to the novelty shop. There is no ice cream shop around here, of course, but I have no choice but to concede with Mammon’s obvious lie. If Levi were to find out that we were planning on dragging him out of his room for a surprise birthday party, I have no doubts that he would do anything to excuse himself from the occasion. I force what I hope is a convincing smile on my face, hoping that Levi doesn’t see through the ruse.

“I -- I thought you were studying in your room for the rest of the day,” I say, leaning into Mammon’s embrace. “I didn’t see you at RAD this morning.”

“I see,” he says. 

Mammon holds me closer to him, his easy grin still plastered on his face. He all but crushes his cheek into my dark curls -- a move that is only the slightest bit awkward -- as he does so, keeping up the pretense. “We should probably get going before it closes down,” he says quickly. “Right, human?”

I nod. “We -- we should.”

“Great! Then we’ll get going.” Mammon quickly turns around, my smaller frame soaring an inch off the ground, and flashes Levi a parting wave. “Be seeing you around, huh?”

Mammon doesn’t wait for Levi to answer, instead dragging us both down the street until he’s sure that we’re no longer in his line of sight. Mammon being the stronger out of both of us -- and, more importantly, a demon -- tucks me under his arm and strides as we escape Levi’s scrutiny. I only catch the barest glimpse of Levi’s features as Mammon all but spirits me away, his expression somehow indiscernible, and we lock eyes for a moment.

An odd pang of guilt strikes me, despite the lack of a reason for it. 

* * *

Hours later, after dinner, my thoughts are still preoccupied with the image of Levi’s expression in the street. I absentmindedly lather the shampoo into my dark locks as I stand under the shower, allowing my thoughts to wander. His eyes -- his eyes had darkened almost imperceptibly as Mammon carried me away, his bangs shadowing his visage as he watched. Or had it just been a trick of the light? He hadn’t been smiling, that was for sure, but that wasn’t anything to be worried about. After so many months at RAD, I have never known Levi to be the particularly cheery type. The side of his mouth had twitched as he frowned, his mood somehow lessening even more than usual. Maybe he had seen through the lie? Or perhaps Mammon had annoyed him again somehow, seeing how that seems to be a constant pattern between the two. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that --

_ No, you do know better, _ I chide myself, rinsing the rest of the shampoo from my hair. The dark locks begin to revitalize themselves under the water, popping up in loose ringlets.  _ This isn’t the same Levi that tried to attack me back then. _

The knob of the shower turns easily, the water stopping a few moments after, and I climb out of the bathtub dripping wet. That state is remedied easily: I towel myself off and plop my curls with hair product Asmodeus had generously lent to me, working the cream into from root to end. Given that I had been essentially kidnapped and spirited away into the Devildom, it would do no good to return to Mama and my family with both a lack of clothes and dry, splitting hair. And so I take my time with the process before dressing for the night.

I pull on a pair of thick wool socks along with a roomy pair of pajamas, each piece borrowed from one of the brothers at the beginning of my stay. An oversized sweatshirt and rolled-up pajama pants. It is cold in the House of Lamentation -- a characteristic likely attributed to the demons’ hardier nature -- and I have little reason to ask Lucifer to adjust the entire temperature of the hall to one human’s preferences. I’ve already checked my room over and over again for a heater or source of heat. Despite all of Lord Diavolo’s preparations beforehand, the topic of making the temperature of the hall or my room more bearable had slipped his mind, subjecting me to hours of shivering during the long nights.

Again, there is that pang of homesickness. According to Asmodeus, the Devildom has no true seasons. Nothing that a human like me would consider seasons, in that case. There’s cold weather, colder weather, and then there is a teeth-chattering frigidity that leaves me shivering and miserable on the best of nights.

Worse, if the Devildom has something even resembling an ocean or seashore, we are nowhere near close to one.

My D.D.D. buzzes, catching my attention. After drying and plopping my curls more in the towel, I pick it up and check the messages.

_ Got the goods? _ Mammon asks. 

I take a quick glance at the Lord of Shadow figurine on my nightstand, still protected in both its case and plastic bag. Yes.

_ Betcha that he’s already got that one, _ Mammon texts me.  _ Should’ve gotten that wallet, if you ask me. _

I sigh.  _ You wanna go and check? Your room is right next to his. _

_ Nah, he’d just think that I was in there to steal something, _ he texts back after a moment.  _ Isn’t he supposed to be at some weird costume thing tonight? _

_ But you would be, _ I point out.

_ You say that like it’s a bad thing. _

I stare at my phone for a few minutes, deciding if I should respond, then ultimately end up tossing it onto my bed. He is right, as much as it vexes me to admit it. The chances of just giving Levi a duplicate of something he already has -- especially something concerning his favorite Lord of Shadow character -- are too high to be negligible. And it -- it wouldn’t be too weird to waltz into his room to check, would it? No, it probably would be.

Then again, back in the human world, I never thought I would spirited away into the realm of devils and demons. Surely there could be some leeway in the terms of socially acceptable actions.

* * *

The corridor in front of Levi’s room is empty, as expected. The moonlight -- rather, the light from what appears to be something resembling a moon -- shines through great, uncovered windows in the hallway, lighting my path. I tread lightly on sock-laden feet. After another quick check into the hallway and testing the doorknob, I slip into Levi’s room.

I’ve been in his room enough to know to navigate the worst parts of his room -- namely, the giant bathtub and aquarium -- and so I walk straight to where I should be looking: the encased, protected shelf on his wall. Unlike the hall, however, Levi has left his curtains mostly closed. I nearly trip and bump into random bags and other piles of clutter in his room as I make my way towards my destination, narrowly avoiding each obstruction each time.

I scrutinize the case when I reach it, making sure not to touch the surface of the glass. A demon as obsessive as Levi would notice. Unfortunately, with the lack of light in the room, it is incredibly difficult to discern the differences between the figurines, much less recognize which figurine is which. I find myself simply staring at the case for a moment, eyes flitting between each figurine. There are plenty of figurines of the Lord of Shadow, as evidenced by the signature silhouette, and I strain my eyes to search for the particular form of the limited edition figure.

Minutes pass. I feel a slight headache emerging from the eye strain, but my efforts have paid off: to my knowledge, no such figurine exists in his collection. At least, there is no such figurine in his display case. Better yet, it’ll be something to prove the greedy, arrogant loudmouth wrong. I begin to carefully make my way past the piles of clutter again, nudging various objects aside when need be. I bump into the massive bathtub in the center of the room, its form completely obscured by the shadow, and --

And there is a noise in the corridor.

_ Levi. _

I make my way to the door as quickly and quietly as I can, panic beginning to rise. While I could possibly lie my way out of explaining why I was in his room -- I had gone into the wrong room, maybe -- I doubt that it would be enough to convince him. For someone that spends most of their time cooped up their room, he is awfully perceptive. And I am an awfully bad liar.

I quietly slip into the hallway once more, muffling the sound of the closing door as much as I can. The corridor is dark, as it had been when I left it, but I know better than to let my guard down. If Levi were to enter from the door in the front lobby, it would be better to simply make my way down the stairs in the opposite direction. I pad quietly on the thicker parts of the rug on the floor, heading towards the end of the hall. The sound of footsteps begins to near me. I quicken my pace, turning the corner.

I smack into something solid, sending me careening into the floor. Thankfully, I break the fall with my face. My cheekbone smarts as I groan in pain, the throbbing sensation spreading across my visage, and I begin to lift myself up and off the wooden floor. A shadow looms over me for a moment, hindering my vision in the limited light. I turn my face upwards.

“Levi,” I acknowledge.

Levi looks down at me, his features marginally obscured by the headpiece of his cosplay. “Maria.”

We stare at each other, unsure of how to react. He clears his throat after a moment, his initial confusion dissipating somewhat, and offers me a hand. “Um, do you -- you need help getting up,” he says, changing the question into a statement mid-sentence. “You can take my hand -- if you want, that is. Don’t feel --”

I grab his hand and quickly pull myself to my feet, prompting Levi to awkwardly sputter the rest of his sentence. I move a little too quickly, however: the throbbing bruise on my cheek combined with the sudden vertigo is wholly disorienting, and I end up stumbling forward into his chest again. Thankfully, he manages to catch me this time. When I push myself away from him, putting a hand to my face, I notice that an odd flush has spread across his cheeks. Or maybe it is only light from the windows that is casting odd shadows over his visage.

“Sorry about that,” I apologize quickly. “I was on the way back from getting a midnight snack.”

_ Idiot, _ I think to myself.  _ Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. The kitchen is downstairs by your room. _

Levi’s gaze flickers just past me, towards where I know the older of the brothers’ rooms are. I fidget. Then he is taking in my appearance -- wet hair, baggy clothing, and all -- and I find myself withering under his gaze, the discomfort growing to an almost unbearable level. All traces of the dorky, awkward Levi seem to have suddenly dissipated, the air between us suddenly palpable with tension. Tension for reasons that I can’t quite discern. Given the unforeseen shift in the demon’s mood, no matter his usual countenance, I decide that it is better not to ask.

Again, there is that strange expression. His golden eyes seem to flash with an almost imperceptible emotion for a moment, his bangs overshadowing the bridge of his nose. 

His gaze meets mine for a moment. The intensity in them is harsh, nearly overwhelming, and I tear my eyes away on instinct. Something is wrong. His presence feels predatory somehow. Carnivorous. As if he were a serpent and I were a mere mouse caught in its jaws. As if I were a rabbit and he were the hunter. As if he were truly and very much a demon and I were a weak, insignificant human, ripe for the taking. He mumbles something inaudible under his breath.

For the first time, I feel fear.

I see Levi reaching for me just out of the corner of my vision, the shadows strange on his form. The air is cold, colder than it's ever been, as if the sheer will of his displeasure has changed the property of the air around it. I almost perceive the shadows forming on the wall behind him. My mind begins to throw flashbacks of the first time I had ever seen his true form: dark, coral-like horns, a serpentine tail, strange marks on what skin I could see. His hand comes within an inch of me, bearing what almost look like claws through the gloves.

I run.


	2. Chapter 2

Beel noisily pops open a bag of hellfire vinegar chips, tossing the contents haphazardly in his mouth as we begin the walk back to class. Mammon’s hellfire vinegar chips. Mammon does his best to stop him from spilling everywhere, chiding him in the process, but Beel seems more content with eating as much as he can before we can step back into one of RAD’s many buildings. I do my best not to smile too much at the sight. Much to Mammon’s annoyance, Beel only shifts himself out of the way each time the shorter demon makes a grab for the bag, forcing Mammon to regain his balance. Another attempt, and Beel holds it far above his head. Yet another attempt, and then Beel simply holds Mammon’s head an arm’s length away from him, munching away. A frustrated grimace grows on Mammon’s face. As docile as the gluttonous demon usually is -- prone to toddling around like a large, lazy dog -- it is clear that he is enjoying himself. The corner of his mouth upturns just slightly at Mammon’s frustration, subduing yet another attempt to take back the bag.

At times like this, it’s all too easy to forget about the human world. I stifle a laugh as Beel shoves the rest of the chips into his mouth, a look of despair overtaking Mammon’s features. 

“Oi, one of the witches gave me that today!” Mammon protests, shaking the now-empty bag of chips. “I was gonna save that for later!”

Beel smiles in satisfaction, wiping off the last of the crumbs from his cheek. “You said I could have it.”

“I said you could have some, not all of it!” 

I shift the books under my arm, biting down yet another laugh. Or sigh, possibly. Still, it is a welcome distraction. Mammon’s frustration warps his features, much like --

Much like Levi’s.

I want to stop myself. I should, honestly. But my thoughts wrench myself back to the memory of last night, forcing me away from the present. Drowning and out the noise of Mammon’s yells and Beel’s footsteps. Dulling the space around me, as if the bustle of the crowd were no more than a distant image. My fingers grip the hardcover of my textbook as I force myself to walk, each step becoming more difficult than the last. And then there is the fear.

Because I -- I was afraid last night, wasn’t I? I was afraid. For the first time, the sight of the Avatar of Envy had spurred a sense of primal panic in me, as if my body refused to recognize him. For the first time, Levi -- gentle, awkward, dorky Levi -- had seemed to be nothing more than a frightening monster. Golden eyes darkened just enough to be dangerous, his usual frown warped into something I couldn’t recognize. Or perhaps something I had simply refused to recognize. There was something off. Then he had reached for me, the shadows playing strange tricks across his features, and I had -- 

Mammon crashes into me, his efforts wholly thwarted by an unseen indent in the pathway. I let out a groan of effort as I do my best to stop both of us from slamming into the street, wrapping my arms around Mammon in the process, and Beel manages to catch Mammon’s arm just in time. I stagger slightly, school shoes sliding, but I eventually find purchase in the stones beneath my feet. Mammon releases a hiss of pain when we both finally manage to regain our balance, Mammon still wrinkling the front of my uniform. Beel, ever the practical one, keeps a tighter hold on the empty bag of chips than Mammon’s arm. I realize after a moment that Mammon has his head pressing painfully at my breast; Mammon’s cheeks flush into a deep scarlet, his realization hitting him milliseconds after mine. Before we can react to the awkwardness of the position, Beel turns and offers a nonchalant wave to what must be a person in front of us, his attention preoccupied once more.

“You’re late, Levi,” Beel says. “Did you sleep in?”

I slap myself back to reality, tearing myself from my thoughts. Mammon takes the opportunity to shove himself away from me, his face hot with embarrassment. Beel lets go of Mammon’s hand. I simply stare forward, my words caught in my throat.

“The _TSL_ series just released a new game,” he explains, his gaze hovering over me for a moment. Studying me. There are the unmistakable signs of sleep deprivation -- shadows under his eyes, messy hair, and that vague sense of irritability -- but there is an odd tone to his words, as if he doesn't quite believe them. As if he doesn’t expect me to believe them, either. His eyes rest on me for only a moment before a fluttered, more typical expression returns to his visage. “I did most of my lectures and assignments online today, but I left something at the school.”

“Like what?” Mammon asks, still entangled in my embrace.

 _Stop being ridiculous,_ I tell myself. _You’re acting like he’s about to eat you._

I swallow my trepidation. “Yeah, we can --”

“It’s okay,” Levi cuts me off, turning in the other direction. “I can pick it up myself.”

I watch the back of his uniform as Levi disappears into the crowd, his dark locks blending in with the darkness of the Devildom. Mammon manages to untangle himself from me in the process as I stare in Levi’s direction, rubbing his forehead. Beel tosses the empty chip bag in a nearby trash can.

I blink. “Did I do something to make him angry?”

“Nah, he probably just lost or something,” Mammon says, beginning to walk in the direction of class again. Beel nods. “Betcha he’s just in one of his moods again.”

I pick my feet up, trying to catch up with their long strides. “Yeah, but he looked pretty upset. Shouldn’t we go after him?”

“You worry too much,” Beel says, reaching out to usher me into the building. His hand gently pushes me at the small of my back, and he uses his body as a shield to prevent my smaller one from getting swept up in the crowd.

The bell rings.

* * *

I stare at my phone screen, attempting to will Levi to respond to my text. It doesn’t work. Instead, I only end up straining my eyes, the covers over my head further cutting off any external light, and my head begins to ache with the contract of the bright phone screen and the darkness of the room. I rub my socked feet together anxiously, attempting to conjure both warmth and comfort. Like my attempt with my phone, that doesn’t work either.

The anime and game-obsessed Levi I know would never turn down a chance to add a player to his dungeon raid.

I finally place my phone to the side of my pillow, sighing. So he is upset. But for what? I hadn’t even come close to beating him in our last match of _Devil Kombat II: Return of the Devil Who Came From Another World and Now Must Fight for His Honor_ , nor had I complained about allowing him to use me as a cosplay dummy. I had run away from him last night, but -- but it couldn’t be that, could it? I was startled, that was all. Tired from a long day of being dragged around by Mammon. And despite the hospitality of the demon brothers, I am still only a powerless, weak human in a sea of soul-hungry demons. Levi could understand that, couldn’t he?

I glance at the clock in my room. Ten minutes past midnight.

 _If I keep this up, I’ll be no better than Levi,_ I think, curling into myself for warmth. _I should sleep. I need sleep. No use staying up all night worrying over nothing._

I toss and turn exactly twenty-two times over the course of the night, drifting in and out of sleep. My thoughts conjure fleeting images before my eyes, some more pleasant than others. Mama taking my cousins and I to Mass, each of us dressed in our finest clothes. Green, rolling hills bathed in sunlight, my favorite _tia_ beckoning me to come to her. And the fresh, familiar scent of the ocean -- waves crashing onto my skin, warmth emanating from its embrace, and a strange, scaly sensation tracing my cheek. Then I am staring at the image of Levi’s demonic form, coral horns and serpentine tail bursting from his shadow, and a clawed hand clamps itself forcefully over my mouth before I have time to scream.


	3. Chapter 3

“I knew I picked the right color for you,” Asmodeus says, taking a closer look at my makeup. The soft pink lip tint -- blushing peach, according to Asmo -- is just visible enough to highlight the natural flush in my cheeks, the hue matching the eye shadow applied to the corners of my eyes. A light coat of invisible mascara coats my eyelashes. Asmodeus takes out a powder tin and gently dabs at the skin just below my eyes, further concealing my under eye bags. “You should let me do this more often, Maria! Be my little doll and I’ll pretty you up in every way possible.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” I say, stifling back both a shiver and a yawn.

Asmodeus draws his face closer to mine, gently turning my face this way and that as he admires his work. “But you look so cute!” he protests. “I’ll even let you practice on me, if you want.”

Another yawn threatens to escape. This time, however, I give in to the urge. Asmo continues to fuss over my appearance, brushing stray curls from my face in an effort to tame them. The locks simply pop back into place, as if refusing to obey its master, and Asmo tries at least three more times before pinning the offending curl into place. His hands run over the pink chiffon of my dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. I do little to discourage him. While Asmo’s barrage of attempts to tame my appearance are somewhat bothersome, a nearly sleepless night has drained me of my energy and will to resist. Satan glances in my direction as Asmo does so, shaking his head.

“Leave her be,” Satan says, turning another page. He props his feet up on the table, sitting on the sidelines of the party, and Lucifer only casts the barest of disapproving glances in his direction. “All you’re doing is tiring her out.”

Asmo pouts, then turns to face me again. “Only if you promise not to smudge any of your makeup. I worked way too hard on that.”

I nod. “Promise.”

Satan sighs as Asmo all but bounds away, and I look at him with appreciation. He offers a smile. After a moment of watching Mammon, Belphie, and Levi yell at each other over a card game, I decide to join him. The pink chiffon of my dress rustles as I sit down in the chair beside the Avatar of Wrath, both of my hands forcing my skirt not to expose the skin above my thighs. Satan regards me with mild amusement over the cover of his book, his attention momentarily diverted.

“I take it that Asmo chose that for you,” he observes. “Unless you chose that frilly thing for yourself.”

“I -- I did say yes to him dressing me up for the party,” I admit, smiling sheepishly. “I just didn’t think that he would go this, um, overboard. It took hours for him to pick something out.”

Satan arches a brow. “Well, it does look nice,” he says, eyes trailing the strapless bodice and ruffled, piled chiffon. “Though it’s not very you.”

I merely nod in assent, now fighting back the urge to shiver. My hands instinctively bring themselves to my bare shoulders, the skin exposed due to the strapless bodice, and I press my thighs together in an effort to warm them. The sheer hose does absolutely nothing but draw attention to the hint of skin beneath, a mockery of modesty, and the short heels Asmo has chosen for me pinch and rub at my feet painfully. At the very least, Asmo has managed to gather most of my curls into a high ponytail, securing the mass with a combination of hair pins and hair spray. I absentmindedly tuck a stray curl behind my ear.

“Aren’t you going to join?” I ask.

Satan takes a moment to regard Beel stealing the snacks from under his brothers’ noses, Mammon yelling out in frustration at losing, and Lucifer quietly slipping out of the room. “No, I think I’d much rather stay here,” he says. “Will you?”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll -- I’m just a little tired.”

 _I don’t think he really wants me here either,_ I want to add, but I keep my mouth shut. I shouldn’t bring up personal issues now. Not at his birthday, at least. I could bother Levi about it afterwards, if he were still upset.

“Then you should retire for the night,” he suggests. “Levi probably wouldn’t notice. I’m a little surprised we were able to drag him out of his room in the first place.”

“What about --”

“Asmo and Beel can take care of clean-up afterwards,” Satan dismisses, reading my thoughts. He regards me with a sharpness I hadn’t noticed before, as if sensing something unpleasant, and his gaze flickers. “You should get some rest.”

* * *

In the end, I only end up staring at my ceiling. The hours tick by slowly, my bedside lamp illuminating my room. The uncomfortable heels lie in a pile at the end of my bed, my panties hung over one of the posts. My pantyhose sits in a discarded heap next to it. Despite the sleep deprivation -- more importantly, the intensity of last night’s nightmares -- I can’t relax enough to sleep. That nagging feeling of wrongness tugs at the back of my mind, forcing me back into consciousness, and I find myself startling awake each time I nearly drift off.

I haven’t bothered to take off the dress Asmodeus gave me. I haven’t bothered to take off my makeup either, letting the products simply sit on my skin. Asmo would be appalled -- clogged pores and little sleep are the enemies of beauty, after all -- but I can’t bring myself to do so. Somehow, my mind and body have been throttled by some unknown source of unease. As if I were pursued prey. The discontent forces me to stay alert and on edge, despite the lack of a reason for it.

Maybe my mind has begun to finally wither under the stress of the Devildom. That could be it. Or maybe the upcoming exams are occupying my thoughts more than I thought they were, eating away at me. My eyes draw themselves lazily around the room as I let my mind wander, all hope of sleep gone again. If stress from a simple round of exams could do this to my body and psyche, how can I expect to survive the rest of the year? How can I expect to avoid being eaten by some lesser demon?

I turn over in bed, sighing, and reach for my bedside lamp. I could at least avoid running up the House of Lamentation’s electric bill. My fingers brush by an object on the nightstand, the plastic rustling --

I catch the packaged figurine before it can fall to the ground, nearly falling out of bed myself. I quickly turn the package over in my hands, inspecting it for damage. A wave of relief floods me when I notice that the Lord of Shadow figurine is unharmed. The exhaustion must have gotten the better of me this afternoon: Levi’s present is completely unwrapped, still in the plastic bag it was brought home in, and, most importantly, not within Levi’s possession. Levi had seemed distant from me at his birthday celebration somehow; he must have thought I had forgotten it. It would only make sense that he would be offended.

_Right?_

* * *

I stand in front of Levi’s door, unwrapped present in hand. I hadn’t bothered to put on anything else but a pair of _chinelas_ : my appearance is nearly the same as it was at the party, save for the lack of pantyhose and heels. Silently, I regret my indecision to grab a cardigan or sweater of some kind. Thanks to the cut of the dress, my shoulders and back are exposed to the cold air of the House of Lamentation, and I stiffen in an attempt to stop myself from shivering. I wait a moment in front of Levi’s door, taking in a breath, and step forward.

I knock gently at Levi's door, then step back.

No response.

I try again, louder this time. Again, there is no response. I stand, small and shivering, in the hall, willing my hands not to drop the figurine. He is in there. He should be, anyway, seeing how the ruckus of the party has died down nearly a few hours ago. I force myself to stand in place. A few minutes pass. There are little, if any, signs of activity in the room before me, the sounds of movement just barely audible. And then there is the telltale blip of _Devil Kombat II: Return of the Devil Who Came From Another World and Now Must Fight for His Honor_ , and the flashing of lights are nearly visible through a crack beneath the door.

 _He’s ignoring me,_ I realize with irritation.

I knock as hard as I can, putting as much force as I into it. The door slams open almost immediately, nearly smashing me in the face, and I stumble back just quickly enough to dodge it.

Levi stands in the doorway, irritation clearly present on his features. “For the last time, I --”

“Levi!” I squeak.

His gaze searches the darkness in front of him, looking for the source of the voice, then he immediately looks down. Levi and I stare at each other for a moment, my surprise mirrored on his visage. Neither of us speak. His eyes draw from my face to my dress, my dress to the present, and then the present to my face. 


	4. Chapter 4

I flinch as I feel the weight of Levi’s gaze on me, my body reacting before I can stop myself. Before my eyes can even register the minute movement. Again I avoid eye contact. Levi simply looms in the doorway, only his printed shirt and black sweatpants visible in my limited view. I resist the urge to look down at my feet, the old habit from my Catholic school days threatening to resurface. That familiar, downtrodden feeling threatening to swallow me whole. Then I do, anyway, because I am human and nothing more than a Catholic schoolgirl being punished for slightest of transgressions again. Because I am nothing more than crying, crumpled child against Sister Paola’s desk, my back a collage of scarlet and purple.

I’ve always hated that part about myself. 

Levi reaches for me, hand just coming into view, and --

“You really got it!” Levi exclaims, taking the boxed figure from my hands. I look up, blinking. Levi scrutinizes the boxed figure as if it were a prized treasure. “Where did you find this? I’ve never even seen this figure outside of DevilTube!”

“I -- I got it for your birthday,” I finally manage to say, forcing the words out. I quickly dash my anxiety away. “I didn’t have a chance to give it to you at the party.”

Levi smiles from ear to ear. The simple expression is genuine and inviting, filling me with a warmth that I didn’t know I was missing. Before I can react, Levi engulfs me with a hug, my face pressing into his chest from the height difference. It is literally suffocating, having the demon embrace me like this, but I welcome the sensation with open arms. All prior, irrational fears seem to melt away in familiarity of the gesture, all memories and nightmares about the Avatar of Envy dissipating into nothingness. This is the Levi I know. Overbearing, awkward, lovable Levi.

_ See? _ I tell myself, satisfied.  _ There was nothing to worry about in the first place. It wasn’t anything to do with you. _

“Can I come in?” I ask after he pulls away, the boxed figure miraculously uncrushed.

* * *

Just as I had expected, Levi had started up a game of  _ Devil Kombat II: Return of the Devil Who Came From Another World and Now Must Fight for His Honor _ . Levi beats me at nearly every battle in the game, armed as he is with both game guides and internet research, but I don’t care. There is still that nagging feeling of wrongness in the back of mind, distracting me from the moment, and I quickly push it away. Because nothing is wrong now. Nothing was wrong. There is nothing else that matters at the moment but my friendship with Levi, accumulating points in the story mode of the game, and distracting him from whatever it is that currently plagues his mind. 

“You’re kind of a noob when it comes to this, huh?” Levi teases. His on-screen character executes five perfect punches and kicks in quick succession, driving my character to the edge of the screen. “Luckily, you’ve got veteran like me to show you the ropes.”

I frown, furrowing my brows in concentration. “I don’t think it can be really called that if you’re just beating up my character.”

Levi’s character finishes mine off with an ultimate attack, my own character’s health bars depleting far past zero, and the winning cutscene plays. Levi grins at me, clearly satisfied with his victory. I continue to frown. But his infectious mood gets the better of me, and soon I am fighting to keep a smile off my face. I put the controller down, letting my thumbs and wrists rest. My gaze instinctively flickers to the boxed figurine sitting on his display shelf.

“What did they end up getting you for your birthday?” I ask, my gaze drawing over his extension collection of figurines, posters, and games. “I didn’t -- I mean, I know you didn’t really want to be dragged out, so I didn’t bother asking.”

Levi nods towards a haphazard pile of what appears to be junk on his desk, a majority of its surface covered in school assignments, Akuzon delivery confirmations, and empty packages. “Not a lot,” he says. “Satan got me a light novel and Asmodeus gave me a bottle of extra perfume. I’m pretty sure Beel ate his present before he could give it to me.”

My thoughts immediately draw the image of Beel’s true form standing in front of the refrigerator, his labeled custard half-eaten. “That sounds like him.”

“And I’m pretty sure Lucifer only gave me an extension on my virtual courses,” Levi says, sighing. “Mammon didn’t even go out of his way to do anything. It was all kind of a bother.”

_ A bother. _

A pang of bitterness strikes me at that, the words resonating harshly against my heart. I swallow the emotion, my throat thick and clotted. “But it must be nice having so many of them around,” I say. “It’s nice having family.”

Levi huffs, turning his attention back to the game. “Not really. Even Diavolo thinks I’m some worthless otaku.”

“Still. I don’t really have anyone -- not anyone back in the human world, anyway. I doubt my family misses me very much.” I sigh, reaching for the throw blanket at the side of Levi’s bed. While Levi’s room is marginally warmer than the others -- probably because of his constantly running game consoles and computers -- it isn’t enough to stave off the chill against my bare back and shoulders. I wrap the blanket around myself, nuzzling into the fabric. “I think that’s why I’m attached to all of you, maybe,” I say, smiling. The thought of Mammon sprinting down the streets of the Devildom, one small human tucked under his arm, makes me smile. “Mammon and I definitely have something to tell you.”

Levi pauses. The automated attackers in the game begin to whittle down his character’s HP, but he does nothing to stop them. “What is it?”

I glance towards the boxed figurine on his shelf. “I think you know.”

Levi’s character dies in the game, the AI-controlled enemies performing their own victory cutscene. I can’t see his face from my position. I inch closer out of curiosity, attempting to peer over his shoulder. His mouth moves around words, forming around what should be the syllables, but his speech is barely audible. I nearly catch snippets of words at times, but they are spoken so softly that my mind jumps immediately to the next one, making little sense of his speech.

I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “Levi?”

Levi presses a hand to his face. “It’s not fair,” he murmurs, the words now audible. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair. No one would want a creepy otaku like me. But why … ”

_ Levi? _

The world spins. The throw blanket I had wrapped myself in flies elsewhere in the room. My back meets the cold wooden slats of the floor, my legs splayed out awkwardly before me. Hands pinning down my wrists. Levi’s form blocks the light of the TV screen, the only light source in the room, and I find myself just barely able to discern the silhouette of his form above me. His weight presses into my waist. Even without the presence of his demonic form, it is easy enough to recognize the threat. His golden eyes pierce the darkness above me, daring me to move. Daring me to even try and run.

My body screams at me to move. To shove off this predator on top of me, to run away, to scream for help -- but I can’t. I know better than that. To do so would be suicide. I do my best to level my gaze with him, willing my heart not to burst from my chest. Calming my breathing. Levi merely stares me down from his upper position, waiting for me, and I do my best to keep the fear away from my expression. Friend or not, Levi is still very much a demon. An apparently hungry one, at that.

The reminder is sobering.

“Levi.” I keep my tone steady. “What are you doing?”

His grip tightens on my wrists. “I know why you did it,” he says. “I know why you did it. People like him -- they’re lucky, aren’t they? Getting whatever they want, whenever they want. You wouldn’t want some creepy shut-in like me. No one would.”

I stare at him in confusion. “I -- I don’t understand.”

“Of course a normie like you wouldn’t.” His voice is brittle. “That’s why I have to do this. You’ve left me no other choice.”

I watch with horror as the coral horns and serpentine tail of his true form burst from his body, his hands suddenly bearing claws as they hold me down. My blood runs cold. His serpentine tail wraps around the small of my back, lifting me from the ground. His clawed hands nearly dig into my flesh. I need to move. I need to force myself to move, and yet the fear keeps my body frozen in place. His golden eyes flicker in the darkness. It is only when he parts his mouth, revealing rows of sharp, long teeth, that I find the energy to try to fight back. I throw all semblance of peace to the wind, attempting to tear my wrists from his grip. Struggling within the confines of his pseudo-embrace.

_ I’m going to die here, _ I realize, eyes widening.  _ I’m going to die, eaten by one of my only friends. _

“Levi,” I beg, “please --”

“I’m sorry.”


	5. Chapter 5

A scream builds in my throat, suffocating me. Unanswered questions run freely through my thoughts. How could he do this? How long had he been planning to do this? Why? But the words die on the tip of my tongue. It is as if I’ve never spoken a word in my life. Levi’s tail coils firmly around my waist as it continues to push me upwards, forcing me to stare him in the eyes. His hands release my wrists as he does so, instead tangling themselves in my undone curls, and he draws my body closer to his. I know I should take the opportunity and run. I know I should take his momentary oversight and shove him off, but I can’t. I do not know if it is the fear or hopeless gripping me tightly, whether it is the odd sense of betrayal or panic -- all the same, it is simply impossible to break free of my body’s self-imposed prison.

Levi’s hands navigate to the sides of my visage, firmly holding me in place. His sharp teeth nearly shine in the darkness, rivalling his inhuman gaze, and choked, pathetic gasps leave my mouth in lieu of words. He splits his maw. I close my eyes, waiting for the pain of gnashing teeth and tearing flesh.

It never comes.

The sensation is soft. Gentle. When I finally gather the bravery to open my eyes, Levi’s face has just drawn back from mine. The warmth lingers on my lips. I stare back at Levi in bewilderment, my cheeks emblazoned, and suddenly my inability to move is attributed to a completely different emotion.

My mind scatters.

“Levi,” I say, trying to put my thoughts together, “why did you --”

He captures my lips in the next breath, devouring me. The second kiss is nothing like the first: it is hot, hungry, and all-consuming, the intensity of it nearly burning me to the core. A clawed hand untangles itself from my curls and kneads the flesh of my breasts incessantly, callous and rough, then begins to trail up my inner thigh. The shock of it nearly makes me jump, and Levi takes my momentary surprise to pry open my lips further with his tongue, tasting me. He uses the hand curled in my hair to tilt my head, delving deeper into me. Taking more.

I had always wondered what my first kiss would be like. I had imagined it would be with some nondescript classmate after a movie date, quick and sweet under the stars. Something stolen at the front gate of school after hours, the touch lasting only the briefest of moments. A quick peck on the lips after a carnival date. Something wholesome, chaste, and ultimately forgettable. I hadn’t wanted it that way, really, but I couldn’t imagine anything else different for myself. I couldn’t expect anything better for some shy, unremarkable girl from the countryside. 

I had certainly never expected something like this.

My chest heaves when Levi finally pulls away from my lips, my cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. His hand continues to trail up my inner thigh, tracing invisible patterns against my skin. I shiver. There’s a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before -- not quite hunger or rage -- and the intensity enraptures me, forcing me to look at him. I can’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. He lets out a hum as he hand explores just a bit further, brushing against the bare skin of my labia. My flush reaches the tips of my ears.

_ I forgot to put them on, _ I realize, my mind flashing back to the image of my panties hanging off the post of my bed. _ I completely forgot to put them back on _ .

“You were probably thinking of seeing him after this, weren’t you?” Levi scowls, his hand now groping freely against my hips. I flinch under his touch, expecting his claws to slice my skin, but he moves them deftly enough to avoid drawing blood. “I saw you the other day, you know, sneaking from his room. What do you even see in that idiot? What does he have that I don’t have?”

I blink. “Who are you talking about?”

“That money-obsessed moron, obviously,” Levi scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “Your little normie tactics won’t work on me, human. Don’t play dumb.”

I think of Mammon draping himself over me in the street, proclaiming that he and I were on date. Hooking and wrapping his arms around my shoulder, as if we truly were on a romantic outing together. I think of Mammon crashing into me in front of RAD, inadvertently tangling himself with me in the process. I think of my secret mission to Levi’s room, my blunder as I crashed into him, and the obvious excuse I had given him for being there. I was wearing a pair of oversized pajamas that Mammon had lent me, wasn’t I? My hair was undone, wet, as if I had just showered. As if I had gone to Mammon’s room late at night, and we had just --

“I -- I would never do that with Mammon!” I protest, the realization dawning on me. The mortification buries my fear within a matter of moments. “We weren’t doing anything like --”

A sudden spark runs through my body, forcing the words to die in my throat. A finger -- his claws unsheathed, thankfully -- circles lazily around my clit, not quite touching the sensitive bud. Slow and torturous. A wonderful warmth starts to pool at the bottom of my stomach, despite the circumstances, and the urge to cry out comes before the urge to question him. I bite my lip to stop myself from making any noise. Levi’s tail wraps securely around my thigh, holding me in place. The hand at the back of my head angles my chin upwards, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. The growing warmth starts to become a painful, aching sensation. As if sensing my pleasure, he gathers enough wetness at the entrance of my folds, then begins to directly stroke my clit.

I stifle a moan, gritting my teeth. “Why are you doing this?”

“How could I not? I see how they all look at you. I see how that money-grubbing idiot looks at you. Asmo probably chose this just to piss me off, didn’t he?” remarks Levi, his gaze flickering hatefully to the chiffon frock. His tone drips with poison and envy. His tail tightens further around my thigh. “This is the only way I can have you. The only way you’ll ever look at me. You understand that, right?”

“But I -- ” I gasp as Levi delves between my folds, now joined by another finger. He works them in and out of my core, curling his fingers.

_ But I already was. _

Levi begins to pepper kisses up and down my neck, each one more painful than the last. He intends to leave marks. His sharp teeth nicks my skin on more than one occasion, making me wince, and he unfurls his fingers from my hair. Then he is pulling down the bodice of my dress, revealing the pert breasts beneath, and he sucks greedily at the exposed skin. I gasp as he takes a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive nub. Levi begins to pump his fingers in and out of my pussy with more force, forcing a whine from my throat, and I immediately bury my face into his shoulder. He takes my chin in his hands and forces me to face him again, his visage mere inches from mine.

My gaze flickers in embarrassment. I try to turn my face away from him, to hide my expression, but his fingers firmly hold me in place. Small, little gasps leave my parted lips, my eyes half-lidded. Drunk in pleasure. Again I try to turn away from him, to tear my gaze away from his, but he places me back into position with more force this time.

“Please don’t look,” I beg, the mewling tone of my voice undoing any attempt to convince him. “You -- you shouldn’t.”

“No,” he refuses flatly. His thumb reaches to strum my clit in response, punishing me, and I let out a gasp. His eyes darken, the jealousy reflected in the willful glare. “I want you to look at me.  _ Only _ me.”

The throbbing, pained ache between my legs reaches a crescendo, and I shatter.

I part my lips, unable to stop myself from crying out -- and Levi quickly hushes me with his mouth. He muffles the sounds of my moans as I shiver and writhe beneath him, my vision perceiving only a pure white for a moment. His tail uncoils itself from my thigh and catches me by the small of my back. The hand that had been on my chin immediately moves to the back of my head once more, angling me just so to deepen the kiss, and I melt. This time, I try to return the kiss, lips fumbling awkwardly with inexperience. He doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers keep working against my clit and pussy as I ride out my orgasm.

When I am finished -- my body undulating in the aftermath, my mind blurred in a pleasant haze -- Levi draws his fingers from my core, my essence dripping onto the wooden floor. He pushes them into my mouth. My tongue swirls around his fingers, tasting the sweet, salty liquid. Levi holds me close to him for a moment, his ocean-like scent overtaking me, then he gathers me into his arms. He stands and places me onto the bed behind him, his movements now gentle.

“I’m better than him, aren’t I?” Levi asks, a grin of victory gracing his features.

I force my mind into partial working order, trying to put together words. “No,” I mumble. “It isn’t what you think it is.”

Clawed hands pull the chiffon dress off my body in response. I don’t bother fighting it. I hear the rustling of clothes falling to the floor. Between the haze of the afterglow, the now darkened TV screen, and the lack of light in the room, it is difficult to see exactly what he’s doing. Not that I need to: the sound and circumstances of the situation are a good enough explanation. With the immediate threat of being devoured by a demon gone, my mind is having difficulty conjuring a reason not to remain in place. It wouldn’t make a difference. Our friendship -- if I can even call it that anymore -- has already been warped in the space of this dark room, metamorphosing into something both unfamiliar and heady.

_ And isn’t this what I wanted, anyway? _ I silently remind myself, my thoughts wandering. I had wanted -- no, I want to belong somewhere. I want to find a home outside of my strict, dogmatic family. To be accepted. I was too stubborn for the confines of my Catholic school, too disobedient for the Sisters, and too shy for my peers.  _ Wouldn’t it be better if I just give in? _

I had only wanted to give him his present, at first. That part is true and chaste. I imagine it is the homesickness or desperation to cling to something in this foreign land -- probably both -- but I want to indulge myself. I want to immerse myself in my desires before I return to the stark, straight-laced environment of the human world. Surrounded by demons and so far from home, surely some things could be forgiven.

If that means embracing the dangerously envious demon before me, so be it. The decision would be on my terms.

I feel a depression in the bed as Levi climbs onto it. The mortification of what I had done burns only slightly in the back of mind, my blatant inexperience coming to surface, but I preoccupy myself more with the matter at hand. Levi’s golden eyes stare at me through the darkness as he nears me, like a snake closing in on prey.

_ Last chance _ , some more innocent, pious part of me whispers.  _ You can still go back now. _

I crush the notion. “You’re right. You’re completely right.”

Levi pauses, wordless.

“He’s the sixth oldest brother, anyway. You aren’t even as strong as he is,” I provoke him, holding his gaze. “And if that’s all you’ve got, then he’s already got you beat in bed. Why would I even --”

Levi cages me in with his arms, hovering above me. The words dissipate on the tip of my tongue as he does so, the sudden, violent movement taking me off guard. My brazenness all but falls apart. I immediately curse myself for my stupid, stubborn willful nature -- but it’s too late now. He parts my legs and shifts himself in between them, positioning himself at my entrance. I only have enough time to push futilely at his shoulders, the beginning of a protest in my throat.

He lodges himself inside my core in one forceful stroke, completely bypassing the resistance, and my fingernails dig deep into his shoulder blades. I whimper. He begins to shove in and out of my pussy, completely ignoring my pain. Rough and callous. Unlike the more gentle, almost playful teasing earlier, his movements are now completely without regard for my pleasure. I try to push at his shoulders again, telling him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen. He isn’t willing to.

I bury my head in my shoulder as he continues his onslaught, trying to muffle my voice. The envy that drips off his form nearly burns me. He draws himself closer, arms wrapping around my waist and my back, and the new angle nearly forces a scream from my throat. His strokes become deeper, longer. Almost unbearable. But the uncomfortable, unfamiliar pressure begins to abate somehow, transforming into a painful pleasure. Allowing that pooling, aching warmth to return to my core. I find myself writhing beneath the demon’s form, the whimpers replacing themselves with heady moans. Levi pulls himself out of me, and the sudden emptiness leaves me breathless.

Vertigo overtakes me. Levi quickly flips me over onto my stomach and plunges into me. The demon pins me down with each forceful movement of his hips, hastily shoving himself inside again and again. I bite down on the sheets. Then he is fully on top of me, groaning against my ear, and a hand slips between my legs to strum my clit.

The intensity of the pleasure is damning. A violent shudder runs through my body, encouraging him to only speed up. The warm, raunchy ache seems to spread from my core, building upon itself, and it is only moments before my orgasm ruptures through my being.

Levi clamps a hand over my mouth as I cry out. My release is violent, overwhelming -- and I am only able to perceive an odd, indiscernible white behind my eyelids as the orgasm takes over my body. Levi only continues to ram himself into my core, even as my pussy clenches and spasms around his cock. His name is both a prayer and an act of blasphemy on my lips.

The next few hours pass by in a blur. Levi pulls me into his lap, clawed fingers digging into my hips, and I fall apart. He breathes his name against my ear with an excruciating, frenzied passion. His lips meet mine again and again, hungry and devouring, and I answer back with a harshness of my own. When Levi finally cums, the thick ropes of his essence painting the inside of my core white, my consciousness nearly fractures with the force of our shared release.

I regret my decision to incite the situation only marginally: the deflowering had hurt, the possibility of him eating me truly frightening, but I cannot deny the positive outcome of my efforts. Unprecedented, even. I have never been a particularly good liar, even amongst my fellow Catholic students, but it had only taken the barest of efforts to create the facade of an oblivious, innocent girl. A little planning here, a little manipulation there. I had asked Mammon to find a store I knew Levi frequented, I had let Asmodeus simply pick the most eye-catching dress he could, and I had waited just late enough for Levi to return from his cosplay event. I had taken full advantage of the rest of the oversights and mistakes I had made along the way. For all the pretense and dogma that my beloved Mama had spouted about demons, she was right about one thing: demons are truly the greatest sources of temptation. I only had to imagine that I was afraid, that I had little knowledge of Levi’s jealousy. A false state certainly exacerbated by the intensity of my homesickness and loneliness.

And Levi, being the envious, jealous demon he was, took the bait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment or whatnot if you like. I hope you enjoyed it. My tumblr is: 
> 
> indiavolowetrust.tumblr.com
> 
> I felt that Levi, as the Avatar of Envy, deserved something that explored that obsessive quality of jealousy. While Levi in-game is fairly harmless, I feel that would be easily impacted if Levi liked the MC just a bit more -- especially if he allowed his naturally envious nature to take over. This was a relatively experimental work and a practice to write more explicit content.


End file.
